Klutz
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Han is being a slightly inattentive parent, but that's not why Leia's mad at him. H/L baby Ben. TFA canon.
_a/n: maybe we can explain Kylo Ren with childhood head injuries?_

* * *

 ** _Klutz_**

* * *

Han Solo had established a very useful process for the afternoon. It had become necessary after his son had woken up from his nap and insisted on having Han in his sights at all times. Han wouldn't have left a fully awake Ben alone in the _Falcon's_ bunk anyway; so, as it were, he'd thrown a blanket and some toys down while he worked on some of the machinery in the main hold.

His system involved him sticking his head under what he was working on for a few minutes, taking it out to check on the baby, and repeating the process – and he was doing extremely well at it, until one time when he pulled his head out to glance at Ben, there was no Ben sitting on the blanket.

Only half out from under the machinery, Han sat up so fast he slammed half of his head into a hunk of metal. Clutching the side of his face and swearing, he looked around – where had – _how_ had –

His panic was interrupted when a furry shadow fell over him, and he looked up to find Chewbacca standing there with Ben hanging lazily over his arm.

 _[You need to keep better track of your cub.]_ Chewbacca growled pointedly.

Han hauled himself up from the floor, scratching his head in confusion.

"He's – what?" he stammered, thrusting his hand at the blanket. "He was sitting right there!" he protested. "How did he – he doesn't move yet!" Han said, consternated.

Ben wasn't even a year old yet – Leia kept saying he probably would walk for a few more months.

 _[He moves now.]_ Chewie advised, handing Ben to his father.

Stunned, Han stared at Ben, speechless for a moment. Then he furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Where was he? Did he crawl or did he walk?" he asked.

 _[I was in the cockpit. One of those things rolled in. He followed it.]_ Chewbacca pointed at one of the soft, child-friendly smashballs scattered around the baby blanket, and then produced a green one.

Ben reached for it, delighted, and the Wookiee gave it to him. Ben showed it to Han smugly.

"Da Da," he said seriously.

Han took the toy, still a bit caught off guard.

 _[It could have been worse. Lumpy got struck in a tree on my watch once]._ Chewbacca said solemnly.

Han arched a brow at him, and then looked at Ben. He sat down on the floor with him, placing him back on the blanket – he felt inexplicably guilty, suddenly, and he wondered if Chewbacca was somehow playing an elaborate prank on him – Ben hadn't gotten hurt, but had he really taken his first steps?

Han ruffled Ben's hair and smiled at him.

"Stay put," he said. "Just a couple more minutes."

 _[He shouldn't be around all this electrical stuff if he moves now.]_ Chewbacca advised, folding his arms.

Han, lying on his back with hydrospanners in his hand, frowned, and looked between Ben and Chewie.

"Can you watch him for a minute?"

 _[No, I have six circuit boards open in the cockpit.]_

Han glared at him.

"Swing him in the hammock a minute. He likes that."

 _[I'm fixing something; you're rigging something – and he's_ your _cub!]_ Chewbacca argued. _[Why isn't he with Leia at the Senate?]_

Han shrugged. He just wasn't, today. He sat back up slowly – Chewie was right; repairs were a priority. He put aside the tools, and at the noise, Ben looked at them, and then got up shakily and stumbled over to Han. Hearing that he was walking was one thing; seeing it was completely different, and a grin split Han's face. Ben tried to climb over his legs to get the hydrospanners, and Han grabbed him up.

"Nope, not for you," he said, attacking Ben's ribs playfully with his hands. "Now you're gonna be all kinds of trouble, eh?" he drawled, setting a laughing Ben back on his unsteady little feet.

Chewbacca smiled – watching Han adjust to fatherhood had been undeniably amusing; watching him chase a fully mobile baby around was going to be even more fun. The Wookiee crouched down and rolled a toy towards Ben. The little boy fell into Han's lap and picked it up, grinning.

He put it in his mouth.

Han removed it, only to have _Ben put it right back._

"Ben, that's not food," Han said half-heartedly. He shot Chewie a look. "Don't tell Leia."

Chewbacca growled under his breath, and Han rolled his eyes. He took the ball from Ben and rolled it towards the table, tilting his head.

"Go get it," he encouraged. "You can do it."

Ben got up and began that unsteady wobble towards the toy, smiling all the way, and Han sat forward, draping his hands over his knees. He started to smirk, wildly proud for a moment – of course his son was defying the average; of course he'd started wandering and exploring and possibly getting into trouble right away.

"Look at 'im, Chewie," Han said smugly. "He's got the hang of it – Ben, slow down," he warned, breaking off.

Chewbacca growled a warning as Ben, scampering towards Han, tripped and fell, smacking his forehead into the side of a cabinet on the way down. Han's face blanched, and he twisted onto his knees, crawling over. Ben started a loud, inconsolably distressed cry almost immediately, which actually filled Han with relief, because it mean he was conscious, and likely not hurt too badly.

Han stood up swiftly, pushing back Ben's hair to see the damage. He had an impressive cut, already bleeding somewhat alarmingly, just above his brow, and his face was all read with the effort of crying.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy," Han soothed gruffly, wiping at the cut with his sleeve – he turned and whisked Ben into the med bunk, bothered by the level of pain evident in his son's cries. "That's what happens when you start walking," he said conversationally. "You run into things."

 _[Leia's going to murder you.]_ Chewbacca said unhelpfully from the doorway, watching dubiously as Han started cleaning the cut with bacta.

He didn't put Ben down, just used one hand to deal with the wound. Ben twisted unhappily, screeching about the sting, and Han gave Chewie an annoyed look.

"Give me a hand, will ya? Hold him still."

Chewbacca stepped up and put a furry paw on Ben's back, gently coaxing him to stay still so Han could clean the blood and continue to hold him with one hand while he clumsily got things together to put small strips of bandage over the cut with the other.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Han soothed.

"Mama," Ben screamed. " _Mama_!"

 _[Mama's going to kill Dada.]_

"Chewie, shut up," Han growled, only slightly apprehensive – he wasn't that worried about what Leia would think – she – well, it was kind of an ugly cut, and Ben had come through life so far without so much as an ear infection, so there was technically a chance Leia would throw a fit – but he hadn't let it happen on _purpose_ –

Han swallowed hard.

"What are the chances this heals before she sees it?" he asked dryly, talking over Ben's annoyed demands for his mother.

Chewbacca looked at him solemnly.

 _[You're in_ so _much trouble.]_

Han scowled at him, and turned his attention back to Ben – all the while considering what was the best possible way to tell his wife he'd let the baby run amok around the Falcon and it had ended with what might possibly be a permanent scar on his face.

* * *

By the time Han had returned to the apartment for the evening, Ben seemed to have completely forgotten that he'd been hurt at all. The only sign was the little bandage on his forehead. Leia was running late, and Han half-hoped that she meant she was running so late that she'd be home after Ben was in bed, but he wasn't that lucky.

Ben was in pajamas, settling in for his pre-bedtime bottle, when Leia walked in, and Han lowered his head to his son's.

"Remember what we talked about," he muttered. "It was _Chewie's_ fault."

Ben dropped his bottle on Han and grabbed his face. He smiled, and Han sat the bottle upright so it wouldn't leak, smiling back. Leia entered the room a few moments later, slipping off a fur-lined jacket and laying it on the couch.

"My last meeting ran over," she complained, apologetic. "Hi," she greeted warmly, reaching her hands out to Ben.

He sat forward in Han's lap and reached for her, and Han set the bottle aside for a moment, loosely wrapping his arm around Ben's waist. Leia sat down next to him, starting to take the baby, but Han held her off. She began to frown at him, and then her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms.

"What happened to his face?"

"Uh," Han began.

"Did someone drop him?" Leia asked warily.

Han blinked at her.

"What?" he asked. "That's your first – ' _someone_?' Who would have dropped him?"

"I'm doing you the courtesy of assuming you would never drop him," Leia retorted.

"Oh," Han said, arching his brows. "Thanks – no," he said, letting Leia lean in and take Ben.

She touched her fingers to the bandage and frowned with concern.

"What happened?" she murmured again. She noted the edges around the bandage were bruised and tinged with blue. "This is a nasty bruise, Han," she said tensely. "Did you scan him for a concussion?"

"He's okay," Han said grudgingly. "He cried it out and then went back to playing," he assured her.

She looked at him expectantly, and he sighed grudgingly.

"I was working on the _Falcon,_ " he started contritely. "He ran off on me, and Chewie brought him back in, and then we started playing with him, and I wasn't close enough to catch him when he started running," he explained. "He fell into the metal cabinets in the main hold – "

Leia was lookin at him with her mouth open, her eyes wide, and he winced. She didn't look – horrified, exactly, but she looked shocked, and he felt another rush of guilt –

"He…he was running?" she asked hoarsely.

"Look, Leia," Han began with a grimace. "I shouldn't have let him get out of reach," he trailed off when she closed her mouth and she – she -

She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Leia," he said earnestly, sitting forward. "Leia, he's okay," he assured her – he'd expected to get his head bitten off for not watching him more closely, he hadn't expected her to get physically upset –

"He started _walking_?" Leia asked, her voice muffled. "I missed his first steps?"

Han's shoulders sagged – ah; of course. He'd been so concerned about Ben's head, and about explaining himself to Leia, that he hadn't really considered that she'd missed a pretty significant milestone. He watched as Leia lowered her hand and pulled Ben close, pressing her lips to his injury. He laughed, smiling at her, and Han reached out to rub her knee.

"Hey," he soothed. "He'll probably do it again," he teased gently.

Leia gave him a look through her lashes, and rested her cheek on Ben's head, sighing quietly. Han swallowed, sorry he'd broken the news so carelessly. He cleared his throat.

"You know, I missed it, too," he admitted sheepishly. "I had my head in a cabinet. Chewie caught him."

Leia kissed Ben's head again, and then glanced up. She looked at him a moment, and then her eyes narrowed, and then he saw the irritation in her face that he'd been expecting, and he leaned back warily.

"You've got to be kidding me," she hissed at him, gently enough so that the baby wouldn't pick up on the animosity.

"What- ?"

"You missed it? You were _there_ and you _missed_ it?" she demanded. "Because you were working on your precious _ship_?"

Han stared at her.

"You're not mad because he hit his head, but you're mad because – "

"I can't believe both of us missed the most important thing that he's ever done!" Leia lamented, turning Ben towards her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she murmured. She peered over Ben's shoulder at Han tensely.

Han gave her a disbelieving look.

Ben reached out and yanked one of her small hoop earrings out of her ear. Leia, having been subjected to such abuse several times in her life at this point, merely winced, and Han quickly took the tiny choking hazard away from him. Ben twisted in her grip and pointed at the bottle.

"Mama," he whined.

"Put him down," Han encouraged. "See if he'll walk for you."

Leia gave him a dirty look, and then gingerly set Ben on his feet near the couch, stroking his hair. She pointed to the bottle on the table and very hesitantly let go of his shoulders.

Ben turned and looked at her, pointing at it again.

"Go get it, son," Han said seriously. "C'mon, show Mommy."

Ben looked at Han defiantly. Leia sighed.

"He's only going to walk for you?" she mumbled. "Even though you let him run into a wall?"

"It was a cabinet," muttered Han.

Ben seemed to decide it wasn't worth it to wait for the bottle to be handed to him, and he toddled forward and grabbed it, turning around and showing it to Leia triumphantly.

Leia clasped her hands and grinned proudly. She thrust her arms out for him to run back to her, and he took a few steps forward, trying to drink from the bottle at the same time.

"Ben," she gasped, recognizing he obviously wasn't that coordinated yet.

He fell harmlessly onto his backside with a surprised look, and she started to get up to get him, only to see him fall backwards lazily and hit the back of his head on the table on the way down.

Leia froze, her eyes widening, waiting for him to start wailing.

It didn't happen.

Han started laughing.

Ben rolled over onto his side, apparently content to have his bedtime bottle on the floor, away from the idiots who kept watching him barrel into things.

"Han," Leia said, her voice strangled. "He's a _klutz_."

Han leaned forward, rubbing his jaw, and Leia put her head in her hands for a moment, her cheeks flushing.

"We're terrible," she squeaked.

"Ah, it's building character," Han snorted. "He's a tough little thing." He paused a moment, and then smirked wickedly. "Wait 'til I tell Chewie you let him bang his head, too," he teased.

Leia grabbed his knee in a sharp pinch, and he slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his side and leaning back. She rested her head on his chest; her eyes fixed both worriedly and admiringly on Ben.

As a new mother, she had spent a considerable amount of time vaguely worried she or Han might accidentally kill the baby, but the first eleven months had actually come fairly naturally – but clearly mobility was going to present a whole slew of new potential mishaps.

* * *

 _partly inspired by: "Steve, we're both afraid we're going to kill the baby." - Miranda Hobbes, Sex and the City._

 _-alexandra  
story #198_


End file.
